For Women, Everyday Is A Battlefield

Every day after college, I begin a two-hour journey back home , a journey that should be ordinary. I sit silently on the bus, respectfully dressed in my abaya, my face covered with niqab. My clothing protects my dignity. It has never been my weakness. It is my honour.

But what protects a woman from people who have lost theirs?

I boarded the bus like always—quiet, composed, minding my own business. A boy sat beside me. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t speak. My modesty was clear. My boundaries were visible.

Yet he chose to ignore them.

Slowly, he began to touch my waist. It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t confusion. It was audacity—the kind born from a society that still believes a woman’s silence is permission.

I froze for a second. Not out of fear but out of disbelief.

Why must a woman always defend herself?

Why must a girl constantly prepare for war during something as simple as travel?

I asked him to move. A lady beside me supported me. He shifted slightly, then walked away—but with no shame on his face, only arrogance.

Before I could even recover, life tested me again.

While getting down from the bus, a grown man, old enough to be a father, hit me on my stomach and walked away without hesitation.

He didn’t care who I was. He didn’t care how I was dressed. He didn’t even care that I was a human being.

And that day I understood something clearly:

→ Modesty is never the problem.

→The problem lies in the mindset of those who refuse to respect women , no matter how they are dressed.

So my question to society is simple:

If a woman who is fully covered, respectful, and silent is still not left in peace—then what exactly do you expect from us?

Stop teaching women how to survive.

Start teaching men how to behave.

I am not writing this for sympathy. I am writing this because I refuse to normalise this pain.

To every girl reading this you are not alone.

To every man reading this your voice against harassment is more powerful than your silence beside it.

My abaya protects my body.

But it is time this world learns to protect a woman’s dignity.

And if society insists on turning my journey into a battleground

I will walk through it not as a victim, but as a warrior.

Written By Fathima Firdhouse